


Not till God make men of some other metal than earth

by scarletseeker113



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:04:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2211663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletseeker113/pseuds/scarletseeker113
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffy fluff fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not till God make men of some other metal than earth

 

Ben throws a piece of popcorn into Bea’s mouth.

“Karen Gillan,” he says.

“Eurgh.”

“Eurgh? You can’t _eurgh_ Karen Gillan!” Ben throws an entire handful of popcorn at her in disgust.

She picks a piece off of her shirt and pops it into her mouth. “She’s just not my type.”

“What, tall, gangly, and from the UK?” He gestures to himself.

She rolls her eyes. “She’s not my type for women.”

“Well, then what is?” he asks.

She shrugs. “I like women to have more on them than Karen Gillan. You know, like Scarlett Johansson, or Kat Dennings.”

“Mmm, curves,” Ben nods in approval.

“Yeah, but also like just a bit more weight. You know, soft.”

Ben gives her a weird look. “Like ... squishy?”

“Soft,” Beatrice insists.

“Good thing that’s not my type for women,” Ben says, grinning.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bea asks, sitting up.

“That you’re a skinny as a twig,” he responds.

“Yeah? Look at you!” Beatrice says. “You’re skinnier than a twig, you’re like a toothpick!”

“I’ve always found toothpicks quite-”

“Nope,” Beatrice waves her hands in front of her face. “Shut up now. It’s over, we’re done talking about that. Lets move on.”

“Fine,” Ben says. He tosses a piece of popcorn towards her again. It bounces off of her nose and onto the floor. “Men.”

“Benedict Cumberbatch,” Beatrice says immediately.

“What about the Benedick that’s sitting on your couch?” he asks.

Beatrice shrugs. “Eh. He’s alright.”

“If you don’t watch yourself I’ll dump the whole bowl of popcorn on you,” he warns her.

“Oh, Benedick Hobbes!” She cries, fanning herself. “How could any man compare? With his dark hair and British accent-”

“-sharp wit,” he interrupts.

“Benedick Hobbes is the standard for men everywhere!” She flings her arms out dramatically and simpers.

“That’s more like it!” Ben gives her a crooked grin. 

“You’re an idiot,” she says. Bea leans forward and grabs a handful of popcorn.

“But you still like me,” Ben sings.

Bea narrows her eyes at him. “You’re going to hold that against me forever, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“I wish I had never told you.” She smiles at him. 

“Liar.”

*   *   * 

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had.” Beatrice pants. She leans over to put her hands on her legs. “Hands down.”

Ben collapses next to her on the concrete. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Running is not a good spending time together idea.” 

Bea stands up and puts her hand at the small of her back sucking in oxygen. “Oh, my god,” she wheezes.

“Lay down,” Ben says. “It feels better.”

Bea takes a look at him, wonders if she wants to lay down on the sidewalk in front of a stranger’s house, and then decides she doesn’t care.

She collapses next to him. “Exercise is the worst.”

Ben throws an arm over his eyes to keep the sun out. “What are we going to do when we aren’t teenagers anymore and we have to exercise to keep skinny?”

“We’re going to get fat,” Beatrice says. “We’re going to get fat and die of heart disease at the age of fifty or something.”

“I don’t really want to live longer than fifty anyway,” Ben says.

“Right? Well, more like sixty for me. But after that it all just become about how old you are and how you don’t want to travel or how you haven’t done anything with your life.”

“I disagree with your reasoning, but I don’t have enough air in my lungs to fight right now,” Ben says. 

Bea humphs and focuses on the breeze that is brushing against her legs.

After a minute Ben sits up. “Come on, we’ve got to get back home.”

“Ughh,” Bea groans. “I don’t want to get up. This concrete is my home now.”

Ben stands up and holds an hand out to her. “Come on,” he cajoles. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

Bea peers up at him. She puts her hand in his and he hauls her up. He half squats and she climbs onto his back.

“Ugh, maybe you _should_ run this last block,” Ben says, turning his head back to look at her.

“Shut up,” she says. “You smell bad.”

“What like you smell like a field of flowers? We just ran two miles.”

“After we shower I’ll make us a salad,” Bea says as he turns onto her street.

Ben wrinkles his nose. “What about dying at sixty?”

“It’s a Beatrice specialty, trust me, this salad will only clog our arteries.”

“When you say ‘we shower’ do you mean-”

“Shower _separately_ Bene _dick._ ”

He sighs. “Okay fine,” he stops outside of her house and she hops down. 

“See you in a bit,” he calls, and jogs off down the street towards his own house.

 *   *   *

“What the hell? Do you normally vlog in the bath?” Beatrice asks.

Ben is comfortably situated, stretched out with a pillow behind his back. “Yes, I do actually.”

“Like, this wasn’t a one time thing?”

“Nope,” he pops the p as he says it.

“Do you vlog from everybody’s bath? Like, not just mine?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I’ve vlogged from Pedro’s too. Come on, vlog with me.”

Beatrice climbs in with him. “Shouldn’t baths be more comfortable?” she asks. 

Ben moves his pillow over so that she can share it. 

“Thanks,” she mutters.

She looks into the camera as Ben starts to talk.

“Well, internet, it’s me and Bea here, talking to you from my bath.”

“Which, by the way is more comfortable with water in it,” Bea adds, gesturing to the tub.

“Oh, hey,” Ben captures her chin in his hand. “You’ve got a piece of of chocolate on your face.”

He reaches back behind her and turns the water on.

“Ben!” Beatrice turns and turns the water off. “My jeans are all wet now,” she complains. She struggles to pull her legs inside of the bathtub again to stand up. “You’re such a dick,” she complains as she stands up and twist around to see her jeans darkened with water.

“I think I had a dream like this once,” Benedick says.

“Really?” Bea asks, and she has a formidable expression on her face. She grabs the removable showerhead and turns it on, holding it right over his head. “Did it include this part?” she half yells at him.

Ben sits under the water and gives the camera a smirk and a shake of the head. “I should have expected that,” he says.

Beatrice is laughing above him, and doesn’t notice him reaching for the shampoo.

He squirts it into her toes and then up her legs.

“Benedick!” She tries to back away but runs into the shower wall. He stands up to face her.

“Any chance we could just call a truce right now?” he asks.

“Hell no,” Beatrice says, and she slips her fingers into his waistband and shoves the shower head inside.

His shorts darken with water quickly. “You know,” Ben says. “This actually feels kind of good.” He thrusts his hips forward towards her in some weird pelvic dance.

She pushes him away, “Oh, my god.” Her laughter turns into a small shriek when Ben squirts shampoo down her shirt. “Truce!” she yells. “Truce!” 

Ben pulls the shower head out of his shorts and turns it on her, running it up and down her body. “Yup,” he says. “Definitely had a dream like this.”

Beatrice reaches behind her to turn the water off, the arc of water lowers until disappearing entirely.

“Now, we’re both soaked,” Ben says. “We’re even.”

Bea pulls her wet hair out of her eyes. “I think I might need to borrow some dry clothes,” she says.

 *   *   *

“I have an idea,” Ben says.

Beatrice hardly looks up from her book.

Ben hits her feet and flops next to her on her bed. “Beatrice pay attention to your lovely boyfriend.”

“He’s not lovely,” she answers and turns the page.

Benedick wrestles the book out of her hands. 

“Ben,” she complains. “Something important was going to happen. It’s the middle of a fight scene.”

“Something important is happening now,” he replies.

“What? My boyfriend being a dick and interrupting my reading?”

Ben opens his mouth and then pauses. “Is that my shirt?” he asks.

“Yeah, you lent it to me after that horrible bath vlog.”

“I’ll have you know that video has more views than any of my others.”

“Probably because of your perverted pelvic thrusts while you had a shower head down your pants.”

“Yeah,” he grins. “Have you seen some of the comments?”

“Yes,” she answers, and holds her hand out for her book.

He gives it back, sighing. 

She settles against her headboard again, and reads silently for a few minutes. Benedick lays down next to her, staring at the ceiling.

After a while she marks her spot and puts the book down. “Good guys won, and only one side character died,” she says.

Ben turns on his side, propping his head up on his hand. “I have a question for you.”

“What?” Beatrice looks down at him.

“For which of my bad traits did you first fall for me?” he asks, grinning.

Beatrice rolls her eyes. “All of them. You have so many bad parts there’s not enough room for any good part.”

Ben laughs and sits up, turning to face her with his legs crossed.

“Which of my good traits did you first suffer love for me?” she asks, smirking.

“Suffer love!” he points at her. “Perfect way of putting it. I was never going to be in a relationship.”

“Me neither,” Beatrice says. “If you decide to pretend to not like me, I’ll pretend to not like you and we can just drop this whole thing,” she shrugs.

Ben gives her one of his lopsided grins. “I think we’re doing alright,” he gives a one shouldered shrug. “We’re too smart to do all the lovey dovey shit at least.”

“Very true,” Beatrice says. 

Ben rubs his hands together. “But seriously ... what are we going to do when we graduate?”

Bea stills, looking at him. “I don’t know,” she answers eventually.

“Because .... I don’t want to freak you out or anything, but I think,” Ben takes a deep breath. “I think love might really be on the table for me. I might love you. And I know you want to travel, but I don’t want to do long distance. I don’t think it would be good for us.”

“No,” she agrees. “We would break up if we did long distance.”

“I don’t want to break up.”

“Me neither.”

“So what do we do?”  

Bea shrugs. “I don’t know. Let’s think about it. We don’t have to decide right now.”

“Yeah,” Ben says. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“And,” Bea takes a deep breath. “Just so you know. I might love you too.”

Ben grins, it takes up his whole face. “I’m never going to let you forget you said that,” he says. 

“I know you won’t,” Bea says. “Let’s stop declaring our feelings now and just kiss for like five hours.”

“Yeah,” Ben agrees immediately. “Let’s do that.”

 


End file.
